take her hard and fast.
Tonight it would be…
“Cezar.” Without warning her hands went back to pressing against his chest, her head arching away from his marauding lips. “No.”
He hissed in frustration, his mouth refusing to obey his will as it dipped down to capture a furled nipple that peeked through the sheer lace. Dios, he craved her like an addict who was in the throes of withdrawal.
“You’re certain?”
She gave a strangled groan before she grasped his hair and tugged his head up to meet her glittering gaze.
“I’m not the innocent fool I was two hundred years ago.”
The edge of bitterness in her voice jerked Cezar out of his sensual haze and he pulled back to regard her with a frown.
What the hell was she babbling about? That night they had spent together had been spectacular. He could still hear her cries of pleasure as he had plunged deep into her body, feel the shudder of her explosive release, taste the potent delight of her blood as it slid down his throat.
Surely to God she couldn’t regret it?
“You might have been innocent, but you were never a fool,” he growled, angered by her attempt to deny what they had shared.
“I let myself be seduced by a complete stranger, didn’t I?” She gave a shake of her head. “I’d call that a quality bout of stupidity.”
“I’d call it destiny,” he said before he could halt the revealing words.
Not surprisingly she blinked in puzzlement. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He wasn’t prepared to go there. Not even in his own mind.
Time for distraction. For both of them.
“Tell me about the dream,” he commanded.
Her fingers, which had unwittingly begun to stroke through the strands of his hair, pulled away with a sharp motion. “God, you never give up.”
He flashed a fierce grin. “Never.”
She briefly closed her eyes before heaving a deep sigh. “Fine. There was a woman.”
Keeping his arms locked about her slender body, Cezar intently studied her face. Anna tended to say far more with her expression than her words.
“What did she look like?”
She gave a lift of her shoulder. “Beautiful, with red hair and green eyes.”
His eyes narrowed, a chill spreading through his body. “What was she doing?”
“She was sitting on a gold throne, and there was another woman there, an old woman who was lying on a red carpet.” She grimaced at the memory. “Her mouth was bleeding.”
“Was she dead?”
“I don’t think so.”
His hands ran an absent path up her back. “Something made you scream, Anna. What was it?”
She shuddered, fear flashing through her eyes. “The woman sitting on the throne…she seemed to be staring straight at me…and then…”
“And then?”
“And then she said she was going to rip out my heart. I believed her.”
She trembled, and pressing his hand to the back of her head, Cezar tucked her close to his body. There could be no doubt the woman in her dreams had been Morgana le Fay. And that the woman was determined to see Anna dead.
Never.
The word branded onto Cezar’s heart. He would kill anything, anyone who dared to harm Anna.
“No one’s going to be ripping out your heart, querida,” he rasped, his voice raw. “That much I can promise you.”
She gave a choked laugh at his arrogant pledge, but thankfully made no move to try to pull away.
“You’re so certain you can protect me?”
“Yes.” His lips brushed her forehead. “But beyond that, you’re a dangerous woman in your own right. I still have the aching ribs to prove it.”
She tilted back her head to meet his smoldering gaze, the fear fading from her eyes. “A dangerous woman, eh?”
“Absolutely.”
“I like that.”
He deliberately brushed his arousal against her hip. “Me too.”
“I can tell,” she said dryly.
“What can I say? Dangerous women are hot.”
“You think every woman is hot.” She frowned as he gave a sharp, humorless laugh at her ridiculous words. “What’s so funny?”
One hundred and ninety-five years without a woman. Without the least stirring of desire. And now that he had at long last recovered his mojo, it only worked for a female who was determined to keep him celibate.
Yeah, he was quite the ladies’ man.
“Dios,” he breathed. “If you only knew.”
“Knew what?”
He gave a shake of his head. “Tell me of your life, querida,” he instead prompted. “You said that you’ve lived quietly, but you must have done something to keep yourself occupied.”
She studied his face, surrounded by the heavy fall of his black hair. “Are you really interested or are you just trying to distract me so you can stay in my bed?”
He smiled, not bothering to hide his fully extended fangs. “Both.”
“There isn’t much to tell.”
“Humor me, por favor.”
She rolled her eyes at his insistence. Cezar ignored the taunting gesture. She was warm and soft in his arms, and for the moment he wanted to think about nothing but the sensation of her beating heart against his chest and the scent of her warm skin.
“I moved around a lot, which wasn’t all bad since I managed to see a great deal of the world over the years,” she at last confessed in a soft voice. “Venice, Amsterdam, Cairo…I even spent a few memorable months in Tokyo before traveling to America.”
“How did you survive?”
“I took whatever job I could find. In the early days I usually worked as a maid, since it was the only respectable job open to a woman. Later I began waiting tables at cheap restaurants.” She grimaced. “A job I don’t recommend to anyone. Even today the smell of hot grease makes my stomach heave.”
Cezar resisted the urge to skim his hands over that stomach. Or maybe he would skim his lips over that stomach. Oh…yes. Definitely his lips. And then he could explore down to the tiny thong and between her legs…
“What of men?” he abruptly demanded.
Her eyes widened. “Excuse me?”
An odd tension gripped him as he suddenly realized just how important her answer was to him.
“Did you ever marry?”
“Good God, no,” she breathed in shock.
“Why not? You’re an incredibly beautiful woman.” He gently cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing over the fullness of her lower lip. “I don’t doubt that you’ve had to fight the men off.”
Her tongue peeked out to touch the precise spot his thumb had caressed, sending a zing of electricity through his body.
That tongue could no doubt make a vampire howl in bliss.
The mere thought of it was nearly enough to make him howl.
Swallowing a groan, Cezar